Ghosts Harry Potter Novels & Stories

Barney shrugged his shoulders. Each piece fit together. One after another. I looked back toward Barney. “If Ghost wanted to disappear…” I paused for a minute and looked back at my screen. “He’d need someone capable of making that happen. Someone with resources. Money. Connections.” I looked back at the photograph. “Someone like Viktor Sokolov.” Barney slowly nodded. “It explains why Ghost disappeared inside Draven’s palace.” “It also explains why nobody has been able to identify him.” I said matter of factly. The more I looked at the picture… The more convinced I became. I finally pushed my chair back from the desk. “I want everything.”

He was not worthy of being called a man. If he could possess someone’s body, the first thing he would do would be to beat that bastard Lucien senseless. Watching the small girl continue to cry softly, the ghost raised his hand and placed it gently on her back in comfort. Then he mocked himself for being childish. He was only a ghost. How could she possibly feel his consolation? Yet Elowen truly felt a cool sensation against her back. She immediately straightened up and looked around. Seeing no one, she quietly thought that she must be having hallucinations again.

His back is turned to us. When he finally hears Iris, he turns around and smiles brightly. That’s when I see realize that I’m seeing a ghost. Harry? That is not Harry. That is Jacob, my best friend that died!

But they all felt so fucking real. Jesus! The thought of having sex with a ghost made me sick all over. My stomach knotted as a full-blown terror took root. A fever ran down my body and my skin gallop with goose pimples. "Do you see her?" his question brought me back to reality. I nodded slowly. "So those times I see you talking to yourself, it is her you are talking to?" I motioned. "Jesus!" he exclaimed. "You need deliverance with serious prayers oh!"

He moved closer, quiet but deliberate, his eyes fixed on the stranger. The man looked up suddenly, and their gazes locked. His eyes were dark, lined with years of sorrow, but sharp far too sharp for someone pretending to be just another visitor. “Can I help you?” Harry’s voice carried, calm on the surface, though his chest thrummed with unease. The man didn’t answer right away. He studied Harry instead, as though weighing him against something he already knew. Finally, his lips parted. “This place…” His voice was rough, gravel worn down by time. “It carries ghosts.” Harry stiffened.

Jay greeted grumpily as he walked to sit at the table. “Who missed me!!!” Everyone turned immediately they heard a loud voice from behind Rose. “Sorry I startled you all, my bad” Crystal giggled happily like something was going to happen that day. “And the queen herself came down only to scare us like a ghost” Rose teased as she began to dish out the food into their different plates. “Come on mom, it was a prank” Crystal announced before she sat down on her seat. “Yeah I see, a prank that could take us to our early graves I guess” Her mom returned.

“Doesn’t mean they belonged to slaves.” “No matter who they belonged to, how did they materialize in my medicine cabinet?” “That I can’t explain.” “I can,” Harold said, poking suspiciously at the cranberry quinoa salad as if worried that it might actually be mulch and rat feces. “You got yourself a ghost, Mr. Horror-meister. Just like our Melinda, only apparently a lot nastier.” Bias shot him a sharp look. “We don’t know what intentions the spirits in 324 have.”

As he dialed one of the witches number, someone walked into the room in a haste, slammed the door, and leaned against it. Harold looked up— and the phone slipped from his hand, clattering on the floor. His face drained of color turning pale. "Please… I beg you Richard, don't kill me." Richard narrowed his eyes. "Kill you? What are you talking about? Why would I want to kill you?" Harold shook his head violently, pressing himself against the chair. "You're dead Richard… you're a ghost." "You all should stop saying that, am not dead," Richard yelled, frustrated.

They were midway across the path, in front of a cemetery when suddenly graves started opening. "What is going on?" Isabella asked, clutching onto Chris tightly. Chris was suddenly sweating so furiously but Ariel was cool and her face was blank and devoid of any emotions. They stood there watching six tombs open and six scary-looking ghosts walked out. Isabella was already whitish in appearance knowing who they are. Chris's hairs were all up and his eyes green, his normal sight nature. "GREETINGS TO THE SPECIAL ONE." One of them muttered. "GREETINGS TO THE LITTLE GODDESS." Another muttered.

She was riding on the giant’s shoulder, her eyes glowing a dark, oily black. "The red smoke wasn't a bomb, Hazel," the Ghost whispered in my ear. "It was a key. And I’m the one who’s going to turn it in." She twisted the blade, and I felt my heart stop.